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The Scissors-Grinder's Song

Fetch on your scissors, your slender blade--
To make them brilliant and sharp's my trade;
To every door-step my grindstone comes,
And on and ever it strolls and hums.

I and my grindstone, we wander by,
And no one asks me from whence come I;
How poor I am, no one cares to know,
None care to hear of my spirit's woe.

I'm ground by sorrow both day and night,
And yet I never am polished bright;
I'm ground by hunger, and though it pales
The face, to sharpen the wit it fails.

I'm ground by grief, but the work is ill,
For notched and rusty my heart is, still.
The wheel is whirling, the stone has grit--
Fetch on your steel--shall I sharpen it?

poem by Carmen Sylva
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Your Pencil

Sharpen your pencil and let me use it,
For the righteous works of some people are clearly evident;
But those thst are otherwise cannot be hidden.
Sharpen your pencil according to the promise of life,
And like a tree planted by the waters of love;
For the sins of others are ahead of them while,
The sins of others trail behind them.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
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Creation of Heros

Another saber to sharpen,
When a war is planned and announced.
The economy depends on it.
And that's what these conflicts are about.

The creation of heros,
And the pocketing of expenses.
The creation of new weapons.
And the plotting of defenses.

Another saber to sharpen,
When a war is planned and announced.
The economy depends on it.
And that's what these conflicts are about.

The creation of heros,
And the pocketing of expenses.
The creation of new weapons.
And the plotting of defenses.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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A great warrior in a melted candle

there will be no other day but a memory of
today, just a dropp of rainbow of my life sharpen the
edge of the past and find the wounded last, out to rise;
and let me please return in the portray that makes
it cast, know not even the end

should i ever run for that moment will come,
when i will found you in the wet land, of where no shelter
to hide and the wound lashes to swollen of hearty pain
in and above the chest; has the silent of the great
roaring sea, stop the ears to listen

lure me not to light the scented candle for the
immortal friendship leaves no regret to hold the torch i
adore, sprout the golden halos of harmony of the wind,
whirl fully callus the chariot of sharpen harpoon, surge
in the bleed of a warriors shielded the flame of victory

let me not spoiled the smile of a majestic warrior,
the honor knight have gone beyond the war, reaching

[...] Read more

poem by Antonio Liao
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Riot of the unintentional witness

We are all seeing what is happening to our brains
they lied to us, they promised what they couldn't maintain
they captivated our young spirits, manipulating our dreams
everything started at school, everything to overrate our self-esteem

We are all seeing what is happening and its consequences
we've been told us to speed up to catch the best vacancies
so now we do not recognise happiness and mercy
we live through social networks, we never ask is it fact or fancy?

'Sir you're playing a dangerous game
keeping this raw Vikingness contained
there will be big aftermaths!
Sword! sharpen! now! '

Oh come on! don't say you're an unintentional witness
where were you when they made you to believe you were a princess?
where were you? you and your chronic dissatisfaction?
you and your fears, your fucking mental masturbation?

[...] Read more

poem by Ilaria Boffa
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Step On You

You're in my way
You crossed my line
You're in my face
You're on my case, you really waste my time.
Don't like your style
Don't like your sound
You talk too much
You got no touch, you drive it in the ground
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
I'm gonna step on you
Don't like your smile
Don't like your clothes
Don't like your hair
And I don't care about your ruby pierced nose
You push too far
You talk too loud
You stay too long
You're in my song but you ain't in my crowd

[...] Read more

song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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Guitar & Pen

Youre alone above the street somewhere
Youre alone above the street somewhere
Wondering how youll ever count out there
Wondering how youll ever count out there
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight
But inside youve got something to write
But inside youve got something to write
In your hand you hold your only friend
In your hand you hold your only friend
Never spend your guitar or your pen
Never spend your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen
Your guitar or your pen

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rokeby: Canto VI.

I.
The summer sun, whose early power
Was wont to gild Matilda's bower,
And rouse her with his matin ray
Her duteous orisons to pay,
That morning sun has three times seen
The flowers unfold on Rokeby green,
But sees no more the slumbers fly
From fair Matilda's hazel eye;
That morning sun has three times broke
On Rokeby's glades of elm and oak,
But, rising from their sylvan screen,
Marks no grey turrets' glance between.
A shapeless mass lie keep and tower,
That, hissing to the morning shower,
Can but with smouldering vapour pay
The early smile of summer day.
The peasant, to his labour bound,
Pauses to view the blacken'd mound,
Striving, amid the ruin'd space,

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Metamorphoses: Book The Twelfth

PRIAM, to whom the story was unknown,
As dead, deplor'd his metamorphos'd son:
A cenotaph his name, and title kept,
And Hector round the tomb, with all his brothers,
wept.
This pious office Paris did not share;
Absent alone; and author of the war,
Which, for the Spartan queen, the Grecians drew
T' avenge the rape; and Asia to subdue.
The A thousand ships were mann'd, to sail the sea:
Trojan War Nor had their just resentments found delay,
Had not the winds, and waves oppos'd their way.
At Aulis, with united pow'rs they meet,
But there, cross-winds or calms detain'd the fleet.
Now, while they raise an altar on the shore,
And Jove with solemn sacrifice adore;
A boding sign the priests and people see:
A snake of size immense ascends a tree,
And, in the leafie summit, spy'd a nest,
Which o'er her callow young, a sparrow press'd.

[...] Read more

poem by Ovid
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The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.

quote by Oscar Levant
Added by Lucian Velea
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